If she had it to do over, would Susan Boyle — knowing what she knows now — put herself through the meat grinder of international media exposure associated with her appearance on "Britain's Got Talent"?

Would Jon and Kate Gosselin consent to put themselves and their brood of eight in a reality television show if they knew their marital discord would be fodder for the tabloid press?

I'm not a huge fan of reality television. Real "reality" is tedious. It's routine. It's turn-of-the-screw. Taking out the garbage and commuting to work is not the stuff of "good television."

What viewers typically see on "reality" television programs is the one minute of someone's day when something out of the ordinary happens or when the subjects of a show reacts poorly to a certain situation. It's all in the editing.

We may see the best of someone, but it's more likely we'll see the worst. And from that, millions of viewers cast judgments about the people on these shows and speculate whether their marriages will survive.

In Boyle's case, we literally witnessed her transform — physically, at least — from a lass from a small town in Scotland with ill-fitting clothes, tousled hair and bushy eyebrows. She styled and dyed her hair, plucked her eyebrows and updated her wardrobe. In the end, she finished second in the contest, which contest judge Piers Morgan attributed to the "tidal wave of publicity she attracted." People either got "bored or irritated by Boyle mania," he surmised on his blog.

Boyle was hospitalized for exhaustion after her second-place finish, which is hardly surprising. How does a woman who had learning disabilities, been bullied as a child and sacrificed everything for her aging parents handle being catapulted from obscurity to unrelenting celebrity?

Don't worry, we're told. Susan Boyle will be just fine. There's a book deal out there, perhaps a film. She'll be able to record an album.

No question, there's a potential for her to make millions of dollars. But is she emotionally equipped for the trappings of fame?

I've gone from being utterly charmed by Boyle to being genuinely afraid for her well-being. And even though she put herself in the spotlight, as a tribute to her late mother, she could not have possibly imagined how it would play out.

All of this brings me back to us, television viewers and Internet users who tune in and log in by the millions, elevating ordinary people to extraordinary fame.

Do we watch these programs because we're genuinely interested in these people? Or do we take pleasure in watching them unravel?

Or is it that our interest cannot be sustained unless they are in crisis?